Teach me, love

Chapter 20

Tord's POV

On nights like these, of silent murmurs of the crickets and crunching snow, I tend to be left in the comfort of my own room. The quiet room of mine, of my red-painted walls that are covered from big posters of my favored bands. There, either at my dirtied bed or dusty desk, wondering whether to read my hentai magazines or kick it with TV programs. Content, and satisfied, probably getting sick off of the wrappers of sour patch kids. Or, maybe, I could be lucky enough to hang out with Tom. To silently admire his features and to grin at heavily, poorly grammered sentences or spat curses at video games. Some days he'd smell like a school eraser, or like earlier in the bathroom, he'd smell of stinging alcohol. Strong, and unforgiving. The unfortunate turnouts of an unhealthy teenager who depends on the liquid, in this hell party.

Either or, Tom would keep that dumb grin of his on his face. Despite lectures I'd confess, or a shaking finger from Edd and his mother figure-like tendencies. An annoyed frown, a ditzy smile, and God that horrible stench that always sticks to him whenever he's past plastered.

But Tom, himself, would be satisfied in his rotten intoxication. No matter how delusional or nonsensical he could do or say..

But right now..

I'm not really sure how to approach this situation.

"Ah.. Are— Are you cold, Tom?.." Cautious and wary of my words, I ponder the question softly. The concern that burried my eyebrows and the nervous frown that strained upon my lips, I'm careful not to ride over sudden bumps or unpredictable pebbles on the ground. Continuing to pedal on the bikes the both of us were perched on, the wind stung my cheeks whilst kissing against my eyelashes. "I give you my scarf..? If you cold?.." I try a smile with my offer, trying to glance behind me for a slight response of his. But, I've been left unanswered, coldly ignored from the other. I stare down at that messy hair spiraling against my neck, continuing to wait. Alas, until I just turned back to focusing on the road. Accepting the fact that I've been dismissed from conversation.

He cried.

Tom cried.

A boy only known for his stubbornness and act of reckless, typical teenager angst of annoyance. Has slipped through his walls, and he had leapt through my image of him. A new emotion that I couldn't help but be oddly fascinated against and deniably interested towards, towards the new emotion of his broken sorrow. Where his face squished up into an ugly cry, his expression that I've never thought I'd see. From snot of his nose and puffy eyes, all entirely new and different.

Beforehand, when I was sitting down on the sidewalk. I had intended for Pat to come and pick me up. Considering that I had to clean off Tom's vomit with shitty water from the backyard hose that I struggled to even turn on. But, my message had been delivered sloppily, yet I've been told quote 'I'm with Pau at the moment and you have a bike... Figure something out lolz :)'.

A simple no would've done fine.

But, yes, with my bike by my side and the bass of music vibrating from the house, I sat on that sidewalk just trying not to think about my untimely confession. Goodness, if Tom wasn't drunk then he totally would've heard it. Thank god. Ha.

And I was just about to yield myself for transportation.. But that was when Tom had showed up.
Wet and the look of a destroyed boy in his eyes, shunning himself from sparing a single glance to me.